


When Push Comes to Shove

by Ashlanielle



Series: Holding On and Letting Go [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fear, Fear of Death, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Trauma, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-25 05:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3798490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashlanielle/pseuds/Ashlanielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose has finally turned a new page in her life. But just when everything seems to be going right, someone from the past returns and threatens to take away everything...including her life. Second story in the "Holding On and Letting Go" series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first follow-up story. And it's VERY angsty! The other ones I have planned won't be this much angst/drama...promise! This could probably contain triggers. It deals with serious subject matter, but absolutely nothing graphic! Not in ANY way!
> 
> Face Down–Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

Rose opened the oven just as Calleigh brought in yet another lunch ticket, giving her a weak smile when Rose groan in frustration. Rose had just started to take the croissants out of the oven, when her mobile began to ring. Startled by the sudden sound, she jerked back, causing her to drop the baking sheet onto the floor. Seeing the croissants littering the kitchen floor, anger rushed through her veins and Rose tossed the sheet onto the prep table before she started rummaging through her bag.

_Where is the bloody stupid thing?_

The ringing persisted, further annoying her until she finally found the phone at the very bottom of her bag. Glancing briefly at the name on the screen, she glared before answering.

“What?!” Rose spat, all trace of civility gone. 

_“Oi! What’s wrong with you?”_ Mickey asked. 

“Well, lemme see," Rose growled, "It’s 11:30 and we’re already swamped. Calleigh’s still tryin’ to train Amy, which leaves _me_ all alone to prepare the lunch orders. Then, your stupid call frightened the crap outta me, an' I dropped the bloody croissants all over the floor. So now, we're completely out of 'em and I have to try ‘n make more _and_ still keep up with everythin’ else. So _that’s_ what’s wrong with me!”

_“Well…I need a favor…”_

“Have ya gone deaf? I said I-..."

_“Listen, Rose, Martha’s got a doctor’s appointment around 1:00. She’s s’posed to have another scan. I was gonna take her, but they’re doin’ a surprise inspection at the garage and I have to stay.”_

Running her free hand through her hair, Rose sighed in frustration. “Mickey...I honestly can’t leave. Y’know I would in a heartbeat, but there’s no one else here to take over…lemme call John. I’ll see if he can take her. I gotta go.”

_“Thanks. Later.”_

Promptly ending the call, Rose immediately scrolled to and selected John's name. After two rings, he answered.

_“Hello, my future wife.”_

Even though she was unbelievably stressed, Rose couldn't help but smile on hearing his voice and her forthcoming title.  
“Hey, love. Watcha doin’?”

_“Uh... Writing.”_

“And by 'writing' ya mean, on the sofa, in your sweats and watchin’ crap telly, yeah?”

 _“For your information, I’m not in sweats,”_ he said in mock indignation.

“Oh, no?” she asked, grinning disbelievingly.

_“No…I’m in my boxers.”_

Feeling a heat rush to her cheeks, Rose couldn’t help but grin and blush at that lovely mental image. “Well, I need you to tear yourself away from all that and take Martha to the doctor.”

_“But, Rose...I’m working…,” John whined teasingly._

“Please, oh love of my life?" Rose purred teasingly, "Mick’s stuck at the garage and I’m drownin’ here."

_“Yeah, of course, love. I’ll take her. What time?”_

“Appoinment’s 'round 1:00.”

_“No problem. I’ll take care of it.”_

“Ta. I _really_ gotta go, babe. Love you.”

_“Love you, too.”_

With that matter squared away, Rose tossed her mobile back into her purse and hurriedly tried to make up for lost time. 

***

Much to Rose's relief, they made it through the lunchtime madness with minimal setbacks, and thankfully, no complaints. By 2:00 P.M., the rush had slowed down to the point of being nonexistent. With no customers to interrupt, Calleigh was finally able to focus on training Amy. Leaving the two young women up front, Rose began to clean up the kitchen from the food war zone.   
  
Finally having a moment, she paused her cleanup and pulled out her mobile, eager to check in on Martha. After a few rings, she answered. 

_“Hey, Rose. Things calm down?”_

“Yeah, finally. How’d things go? Everythin’ alright?”

_“Yeah, everythin’s fine. Baby's gettin' big, and the doctor says everything's on schedule. Although, John tried to get the 'im to say what the sex of the baby was, but I smacked ‘im and he quit.”_

John's petulant voice sounded from the background. _“And it bloody hurt!”_

 _“Oh, don’t be such a baby!”_ Martha smarted before addressing Rose again, _“He’s such a whiner. Honestly, Rose, it barely left a mark.”_

“Please try an' not beat up on my fiancé. At least not his face…I rather like it.”

_“Oh alright...”_

“Mar, ya do realize that you’re the _only_ one who doesn’t wanna know if it’s a boy or girl, yeah?”

 _“That’s not true. Micks doesn't, either,”_ Martha protested. 

“No," Rose drawled, "Mick only agreed with you 'cause you were glaring at 'im at the time and he’s afraid of you and your insane hormones.”

_“Oh, stop it! I’m not that bad!”_

“Martha, I love you, so believed me when I say you've gone completely mental. When the boys made us watch Star Wars, ya started bawling your eyes out.”   
  
The memory of Martha sobbing over Han's reply of "I know" to Leia's declaration of love instantly brought a silly grin to Rose's face.

 _“Oh, shut it! This baby is growin’ inside me, and if don’t wanna know, then that’s my bloody choice,”_ she grumbled but then began to repeatedly sniffle, alerting Rose to the fact that Martha was getting ready for a round of irrational tears.

“S'alright, love. I understand. I won’t bug ya about it again. Don’t cry,” she soothed. “You two gonna come round and see me, or are ya goin’ home?”

_“We’re stoppin' by. We should be there soon.”_

“Okay. Well, I’ll see ya when ya get here. Love you.”

_“Love you.”_

As the call ended, Rose's smile grew and she shook her head. Martha was normally a calm and collected person, but her hormones made her certifiable. It took them all by surprise, but did make for some amusing entertainment. Case in point, the banana business. Early in her pregnancy, Martha found she couldn’t stand bananas, even the sight of them making her queasy. However, she started to _love_ pears. Unfortunately for John, he despised anything even remotely connected with, as he put it, "the Devil's fruit." Therefore, anytime John started to annoy her, which was frequently in her volatile state, Martha would sneak bits of pear into his food, causing him to freak out and begin arguing with her. Of course, this would lead to a significant amount of sobbing, and Mickey and Rose would have to remind him that he really shouldn’t row with a pregnant woman. 

The shop bell sounded and pulled Rose from her musings. Since Calleigh and Amy were manning the front, she figured there was no need for her presence, and she resumed her tasks. However, a hauntingly familiar voice reached her ears, making her blood run cold and her stomach plummet to the floor. 

_No... It...it can’t be. It’s just not possible. He..._

Forcing her leaden feet forward, Rose walked trepidatiously to the door, and hesitantly pushed it open. She had to be certain. The moment her body crossed the threshold, her eyes instantly locked with the owner of that voice, and the room stilled as her horrifying suspicion was confirmed.

The scruff faced man gave her that all too familiar smile, and Rose could feel her insides begin to tremble. With valiant effort, she willed her body to contain itself, to restrain all emotion.

“Hello, Rose. Been a while, 'asn't it, love?”

“Not long enough,” she replied darkly, gritting her teeth at his faux endearment.

“Oh, no need to be like that,” he said in a smooth tone. 

As they watched the interchange, Calleigh and Amy exchanged worried looks. They could sense there was trouble in the air, but both were at a loss as to what to do about it.

“Heard a lot 'bout this place. Decided I had to come an' see it for m'self,” he said, looking around the room before settling his unwanted gaze on her, slowly raking his eyes over her person. His eyes then flitted to her hand and saw the ring on it. “Look at that!" he smirked, "Got y'self a bloke, huh? He must be well off if he could get you a rock like that.”

Instinctively, Rose grabbed at her ring and wished John was there with her at that moment. Straightening her stance, she narrowed her gaze. “He does alright. Not that that’s any of your business.”

The smirk grew. “Well, just wanna make sure you’re gettin’ what you deserve. 'Cause ya deserve _so much_ , Rose.”

“Ya should go now. John’ll be here soon and you don’t want him to see ya here,” she said, her voice wavering ever so slightly as she struggled to remain strong. 

The look he gave her sent shivers through her body. Slowly leaning forward, he placed his hands onto the counter. “C'mon, Rose. Don’t look so nervous. Even though we 'aven’t seen each other in a long time, I still think about ya. In fact, ya still 'ave that 'going away' present I gave ya?” he asked with an erie grin, motioning at her with his head.

“'Course I do,” Rose whispered harshly, placing her hand on her abdomen. She wasn't certain she could stand much more of him. She could feel herself breaking. Mustering every ounce of strength she had left, she steeled her features. “You need to leave... _now_!”

He pushed off the counter and smiled as if he knew something she didn’t. “It was good catchin' up, Rose. I'll be seein' ya again...soon." With that said, he turned on his heel and headed out. 

The moment he cleared the door, Rose started to tremble and she hurriedly excused herself, rushing to the kitchen. Worried about her, Calleigh and Amy made to follow, but Rose firmly instructed them to stay put. Once inside the confines of the kitchen, she leaned against the wall and tried to steady herself. Sobs started to claim her, and Rose threw her hands over her mouth to silence her cries as her weakened body sank to the floor. 

***

Since traffic had been rather mild, Martha and John arrived at the shop earlier than expected. They were animatedly chatting when Martha caught sight of a man sauntering out of the shop. In an instant, she clutched John’s arm, her grip so fierce that it caused John to turn and look at her.

“Are you okay? Is it the baby?” he asked worriedly, taking in the rising fear in her features. 

Martha could only faintly shake her head no, her eyes continuing to widen with terror. John could tell something was wrong, and that along with her silence was causing his own fear to mount.

“Martha, you’re starting to scare me. Tell me what’s wrong!” 

“We, uh…we need to see Rose...right now!” she harshly uttered, grabbing her stomach as she did her best to hurry into the shop.

Their panic continued to rise as they searched the room for Rose. Instead, the only people they saw were Calleigh and Amy, both of whom were exceedingly relieved at their arrival.

“Thank God you’re here!” Calleigh said earnestly.

Martha wasted no time. “Where’s Rose?!”

John was at a complete loss as to what was happening. Everyone seemed to know about it and obviously it wasn’t anything good. Most importantly, it had to do with Rose, a fact that made his panic and anger flare.

This time, it was who Amy spoke up. “She’s in the kitchen. We tried to go after her, but she didn’t want us with her.”

Now knowing where her sister was holed up, Martha dashed towards the kitchen with John hot on her heels. She threw open the door and both were met with the sight of a shaken Rose, silently sobbing and her body shaking uncontrollably.   
  
Seeing her her so terrified filled him with dread, and John attempted to lift her up into his arms, but she was dead weight. Since he was unable to do anything else, he knelt beside her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Unfortunately, his presence brought her only a modicum of relief and she continued to tremble in his arms. Whatever had happened had shaken her to the very core.

“Rose, what is it?! What happened?” John asked frantically.

“He was here,” she whispered brokenly, her tears continuing to fall.

“Who? Who was here, love?”

Rose was unable to speak any further, merely curled into her fiancé's embrace. 

Needing answers, John looked to Martha. “Who was here?”

Briefly closing her eyes and taking a steadying breath, Martha met his gaze, her eyes dark and pained, and said the name that made bile rise in her throat. 

“Jimmy.”


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never Too Late--Three Days Grace

It took the better part of ten minutes for John and Martha to calm Rose and coax her away from the harsh kitchen floor. Both of them pressed her for information on what had transpired prior to their arrival, John a little more aggressively than Martha. However, Rose would give nothing more than vague answers, only saying his presence had shaken her and refusing to elaborate further. Despite her adamant refusal to confide the details, John was unwilling to let the matter remain at rest. Never in all the time he'd known her had John seen her so filled with fear. No--it was more than fear. It was pure, unadulterated terror. Seeing her so affected filled him with an intense mixture of alarming worry and anger.  
  
When Martha was finally able to convince Rose to step into the bathroom to collect herself, John seized the opportunity and hurriedly approached Calleigh and Amy. He did his best to retain his friendly demeanor, however, he was in no mood to shilly-shally around matter. 

"What happened?" John pointedly addressed both of them.  
  
It was evident to the girls by the tone of his voice that this was not an actual question, rather a command to speak. Unfortunately, they found themselves at a loss for words, mainly because they themselves weren’t completely sure as to what had transpired. 

“Well?!” he snapped, both girls slightly jumping back at the outburst. 

Though Amy had never before met Rose's fiancé, the young woman tended to be confrontational, and did not appreciate, what she perceived as, his attempt at intimidation.

“Nothin’,” she firmly replied, crossing her arms in defense. 

“Don’t give me that,” he snapped back, narrowing his eyes. “Something obviously happened for Rose to act like this, so tell me what it was.”

Sensing the declining shift in the air, Calleigh moved herself so that she was a sort of buffer between Amy and John. Nobody needed another confrontation. Feeling the need to rein in the escalating situation, Calleigh faced John squarely. “John, just…try an' keep calm. Honestly, nothin' actually _happened_. I mean, they just talked, but it was...odd. I dunno how else to describe it. The bloke came in and started chattin’ us up, and then Rose came outta the kitchen and ya could just tell that somethin’ was off.”

“What did they talk about?”

Calleigh opened her mouth to speak but Rose’s voice cut her attempt off immediately. 

“Nothing.”

The three of them whirled towards the sound of her unexpected presence. It was evident that Rose had calmed down significantly, but John instantly recognized the signs of former guard. 

“Rose, something-...,” John started but was cut off.

“S’nothin’," she interjected, sniffing. "I’m fine now, and I just wanna go home.” 

Narrowing his eyes in doubt, John opened his mouth to rebut, however, Rose didn’t give him the opportunity. “Just leave it! I said it’s nothin’, so quit askin' ‘bout it,” she snapped impatiently. His features became etched with worry and underlying anger, and Rose couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt in causing it. Briefly she cupped her face in her hands and sighed raggedly before returning her gaze towards her love. “M’sorry…can we…can we just go home? Please?” she implored. 

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as John silently studied her for a few moments before nodding in agreement. He put an arm around her shoulders and protectively pulled her tense frame nearly flush to his side as he and his family finally left the shop. 

***

The journey home was one of filled with silence. Rose had forgone the front seat, and instead chose to sit in the back, insisting that Martha take the front. For the entire length of the trip, Rose kept her focus on the window, although never once registering what was passing her by outside. John habitually glanced at her from his mirror. It pained him to see her eyes so vacant.  
  
When they finally arrived at home, Rose immediately opened the door and sprinted inside the house, not bothering to inquire after or wait on either of them. With troubled eyes, John watched her rush into the house as he helped Martha out of the car and to the door, the stress of carrying a baby and the events of the day finally beginning to tire her. When the two of them entered the foyer, Rose was nowhere in sight. 

“Rose,” John called out.  
  
No response. 

He walked throughout the downstairs level, searching for her. When he couldn’t find her, he climbed the stairs, finding Martha at Rose’s door. On hearing his approach, she turned and looked up at him, her eyes troubled but annoyance evident within her demeanor. 

“She won’t answer,” Martha told him before turning her attention back to the door, jiggling the handle and knocking several times. "Stop this, Rose, an' open the bleedin' door!"  
  
Her demand was met with only silence, no trace of movement registering from the locked room. Done was Martha with her sister's steadfast resistance.  
  
“Y'think you’re the only one who can be so bloody stubborn?” she shouted to the unseen Rose, and then began relentlessly knocking against the wooden door. With zealous determination, Martha continued rapping her knuckles against the door without letup, switching hands when one would tire out. Finally, the handle began angrily twisting before Rose jerked open the door, glaring at Martha. 

“What?”

Martha rested a hand on her swollen stomach and sighed. “We need to talk about what happened.”

“I already told both of you— _nothing_ happened. Just leave it,” she seethed through clenched teeth, her heated gaze flickering between Martha and John.

“Rose, you were shaking on the floor and practically incoherent. So don’t you _dare_ stand there and tell me that nothing happened!” John countered, desperately trying to restrain his growing anger with the current situation. 

Fire flashed in Rose's eyes as John spoke, yet, it was fleeting. Releasing a harsh breath, her shoulders slouched in semi-defeat. She released her hand from the doorknob, and put her head in her hands. After a brief moment, she quickly straightened her stance and sniffed, trying to rein in the emotions that were steadily beginning to conquer her. 

“What do ya wanna know?” she asked softly, her voice barely hovering above a harsh whisper.

“Calleigh said you two talked…what about?” John asked directly, his eyes piercing, his gaze unyielding. He released a few silent, calming breaths. The anger he was experiencing did not stem from any action on Rose's part. No, it resulted from his perceived failure to protect the woman he loved, the woman who's soul was intwined with his own. The mere idea of letting her down, in any shape or form, was intolerable. It was a failure John vowed never to repeat.

The sheer physical and emotional exhaustion settled heavily on Rose's shoulders, and she once again haggardly sighed. She walked over to her bed and sat down cross-legged, staring intently at her hands. John briefly looked at Martha. 

“Give us a bit,” he said, and started towards Rose. 

Like a shot, Martha swiftly grabbed his arm. “Try that one again, mate. She's my sister, and if y’think for one minute that I’m just g-..." 

“Martha, please!” John snapped,“Just…just give us a few minutes, yeah?”

The young mother-to-be narrowed her eyes at him. The idea of not being by Rose's side, even if only for a few moments, was nearly unpalatable. However, a small voice told her that Rose needed John, just as Martha would need Mickey in such a situation. Albeit reluctantly, she nodded her head in acquiescence, and headed to her room.

Turning his attention back to Rose, John furrowed his brow at her change in demeanor. Her feet were now flat on the floor while her hands clutched the edge of the bed. Her fingers dug into the duvet, her knuckles white. The small amount of tension she'd managed to release, reclaimed her with a vengeance. He could hear her ragged breathing start to become rapid, and she was beginning to visibly tremble. 

John reached his arm out to encircle her, but Rose pulled away from him and shook her head.  
  
“Rose?” 

She opened and closed her mouth several times, but no words came forth. Rather, her breathing pattern became erratic. It was no longer rhythmic, rather agonizingly sharp gasps.

Panic settled into John’s chest, feeling like a lead weight. “Rose?! Rose, talk to me, love!”

Rose’s eyes glazed and became vacant as she continued to stare straight ahead. “I...I can’t...breathe...Joh-..." 

In the blink of an eye, John knelt to floor in front of her, and firmly, yet lovingly, took her face in his hands. “Rose, look at me.” 

The gasps increased as she continued to gaze off, clearly unfocused. 

“Rose! Look. At. Me,” he ordered, his voice firm and commanding attention.  
  
Slowly, her eyes met his, and John smiled at her.  
  
“Good, love, good. Now listen to me. You’re gonna be alright. I’m here, and I will _always_ be here.“

Some part of his words must have reached her, for she nodded absentmindedly. 

“Alright, love--take a deep breath till we get to three, okay? Here we go. One…two…three.”

Weakly obeying, Rose took a ragged breath till he finished his count. 

“Now, let it out slowly. One…two…three.”

She did so, that breath slightly less painful. 

“That’s it, love,” he said soothingly, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. “Let’s do it again. One…two…three.”

That pattern continued a few more times before Rose’s breathing became less labored. As her senses started to return, hot tears began to burn her eyes and her face contorted in pain. In an instant, John pulled her into his arms. Rose melted into him and began to agonizingly sob into his chest. She fiercely clutched his shirt, anchoring herself to him and somehow lowering them to the floor. John gently rocked her back and forth, stroking her hair and whispering to her assurances of love and security. After a long while, her cries began to subside but she remained enwrapped in John’s protective hold, neither able or wanting to move. Unwilling to release her, and relieved to have her safely in his arms, John placed several kisses to her head and pressed Rose even closer to him.

“What did he say?”

Even though they were completely intwined, John still had to strain to hear Rose’s next words.

“He...he said he's coming back…”

***

The next morning found Rose opening the shop for the second time in a row, due to the fact that Martha was feeling particularly unwell and was therefore unable to take her usual turn. However, the difference between those two times, was that John was right by her side from the start. When he'd learned that Rose would be stepping into Martha's place, he'd immediately informed his fiancé that he would be accompanying her. He would brook no refusal, and Rose had none to give. The truth was that she _needed_ him beside her. The return of her ex didn't reopen wounds; no, they had long since altered their form. They were scars--thick, jagged scars that Jimmy's reappearance had violently gashed open.  
  
Rose’s countenance was so altered, it physically pained John to see it. Her face was pale and drawn. Those whiskey eyes--normally shinning and soulful--were now clouded and underscored with dark shadows. Gone was her normally playful and teasing manner, and replaced with a downtrodden spirit. When he looked at her, John could barely recognize the woman he loved, and that nearly broke his heart.  
  
Throughout the morning, John never strayed far from her side—only easing back when Calleigh and Amy arrived for their shifts. Both women could see the exhaustion marring their bodies, and hastily assured and insisted that John and Rose leave the work to them. Rose smiled, albeit weakly, while John nodded his thanks, putting an arm around his love and leading her to the back of the shop. Taking a seat on the sofa, John pulled Rose into an instinctive, protective embrace as she buried into him, laying her head on his chest. He affectionately stroked her arm, and slowly he felt the tension in her body relax; within a short time, Rose fell fast asleep. 

Roughly an hour later, the shop bell jangled, and John immediately steeled himself for the possibility that it signaled Jimmy’s promised arrival. Those worries were quickly dispelled when he heard Jack’s voice inquired after them. In a matter of seconds, Jack was in front of them, quietly taking a seat on the edge of the coffee table. Not long after the incident with Jimmy, John had phoned his brother-in-law, seeking his longtime friend's support, something Jack was always ready and willing to offer. In the months that they had gotten to know one another, Jack had developed a brotherly love for Rose, and was eager to help in any capacity.

Jack roved his eyes over Rose, his concern for her evident.  
  
“She doesn’t look so good,” he stated in a troubled tone.

Looking down briefly at Rose's slumbering form, John shook his head. “That's 'cause she’s not. She hasn’t eaten anything since yesterday and Martha told me she only slept a couple hours.”

Jack nodded as he took in that information. “Did she tell you anything else about yesterday? 'Bout what he said to her?”

“No,” John sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose. “All of us tried to get her to talk, but she wouldn’t say any more about it. The _only_ thing I could get her to tell me was that he's coming back.”  
  
That news was instantly worrisome to Jack, and he furrowed his brow in a mixture of anger and confusion. "What exactly does that mean?"  
  
"I don't know, Jack. But I suspect that it's just what it sounds like--that he's gonna try to see her again." 

The fury that surged through John at the thought was nearly overpowering, and his jaw clenched in valiant restraint. However, when Rose began to stir, the expression instantly transfigured into one of love and attentiveness as John quickly worked to soothe her, moving his hand to stroke her hair. As he did so, she began to calm back down and return to her sound sleep. 

The visible depth of John and Rose’s love for each other never failed to amaze Jack, and he smiled as he watched the tender expression. 

“Let’s get some air,” Jack suggested, knowing beyond certainty that John needed a break as well. 

John emphatically shook his head at the suggestion. “No, I don’t want to leave her. I can't...”

“John, she’s asleep right now. At most, we'll be gone about ten minutes. We'll get her some chips. I know she loves 'em. Maybe then she’ll eat something." Seeing the inner debate waging in his eyes, Jack clapped John on the knee, "C’mon, you need a breather. You won’t do her any good if you suddenly keel over.”

John looked down at Rose’s sleeping face and decided that Jack made a valid point. Carefully, he maneuvered himself off the sofa without waking her. Tenderly he pressed a kiss to her forehead, eliciting a soft sigh from her. Giving her another loving glance and graze to her cheek, John followed Jack out of the shop. 

***

There was no denying it, John had definitely needed a break. As the two men walked, he could feel some of the pent up tension in his body begin to ease. Though the walk was short, the two did use its time to discuss Rose’s situation and what could be done to help and protect her. As they neared the shop, John saw a familiar face approaching from the opposite direction. Something about the man's gruff face was off-putting, setting off warning signals. Suddenly, the realization hit him, the pieces fell into place. That face belonged to the man who made Martha halt and tremble in fear. The face that instantly sent her rushing to find Rose. 

It was then that John realized he had finally come face to face with Jimmy Stone. 


	3. Part Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rough. There are some memories of past events but they are not described, just allusions.
> 
> Your Guardian Angel–Red Jumpsuit Apparatus

All time ceased in progression as John felt an eerie calm settle over him. Considering the absolute hatred he had for this man, this creature standing a trifling distance away, he was devoid of feeling. It was as if he was the eye of a storm—calm, silent, but the heart of immense force.   
  
Unaware and unconcerned if Jack followed, John hastily closed the distance between he and Jimmy Stone, intercepting him at the entrance. With determined strength, John put his hand firmly against the glass surface, resolutely preventing Jimmy from entering.

"Oi! Shove off!" Jimmy hollered, turning a heated gaze at the forbidding stranger.

There was no intimidation tactic that would ever be able to sway John, and his eyes harshened and grew unyielding as they bored into the odious man.  
  
"You're not going in there."

Surprised by the stranger’s sheer gall, Jimmy cocked an eyebrow challengingly. "Oh yeah? And why's that, mate?"

"I know who you are," John said, his voice low and ominous. "And there's no way I'm letting you anywhere near her."

"So, I’m guessing this is him," Jack stated in a hardened tone, suddenly taking a defensive stance next to his friend, his furiously blazing blue eyes staring penetratingly at the man in question.

An inquisitive looked came over Jimmy's eyes as he flitted his gaze between the two men accosting him. Suddenly, they flashed with recognition and he smirked at the both of them, obviously amused. Being in Jimmy’s presence, merely breathing the same air made John physically ill with disgust. And the more he saw that smirk, the more John felt an overwhelming need to wipe it off his face permanently. 

"You must be Rose’s bloke, eh?" he scoffed, focusing his gaze on the barely restrained John. "She mentioned ya yesterday." He took a slow, disdainful appraisal of John and snorted. "Must fancy your money. Got plenty of it judgin' by the rock ya on ‘er finger." Jimmy then cocked his head to the side, smirking. "Although, Rose always was eager to throw herself at any bloke who'd have her,” he sneered.

On hearing such spiteful filth uttered about his Rose, John felt something feral burst forth from within him. Growling in anger, he lunged forward, grabbing Jimmy by his shirt and throwing him against the shop window, pinning him against the glass. Jimmy simply snickered at him, eager to antagonize him at every opportunity.

Quite taken aback by the sudden physical display, Jack gripped John's shoulder, but didn't make any overt effort to stop him.

"John, you need think about this," Jack said firmly, trying to bring his brother-in-law back to his senses. Even though Jack was fighting his own inclination to throttle Jimmy, he knew that John was nowhere near the vicinity of rational, and was instead, allowing his rage to control him. 

John either _did_ not or _would_ not hear him, and continued to pin Jimmy to the window, his jaw clenched in wrath. "I’m giving you one warning: stay away from Rose! You so much as bloody breathe near her and I'll-…"

"You'll what, mate?" Jimmy dared, glaring at him defiantly.

As he continued to pin the man against the window pane, John’s eyes became cold and an unearthly shade of black. When he spoke, his voice was frighteningly smooth yet piercing.

"I'll make you wish you never met me."

At John’s response, Jimmy searched his face, deciding the likelihood of the threat. Another slow smirk emerged, accompanied by an almost inhuman chuckle.

"Nah, mate, my money’s on ‘no.’ Y'don't look like the type t’get ya hands dirty. An’ even if ya were, what makes y’think you can do anythin'? Huh?"

"You don't know what sort of man I am."

"Can't be mucha one if you're with that bloody chav!"

That insult was the final straw, and John felt that instinctual ferocity snap within him. He snarled and moved to strike just as Rose burst through the door and grabbed him. 

"John, stop! Please, love, don't! It's...it's not worth it... _please_ , babe," she pleaded earnestly, pulling on his raised arm as she begged. 

Hearing the anguished worry and panic in Rose’s voice, John reluctantly released Jimmy with a forceful shove, never breaking eye contact. Sighing in relief, Rose pulled John towards her, agitation and worry still radiating from her. 

Seeing that his intended target had decided to join them, Jimmy turned his attention to Rose. "Not lookin’ so hot, Rose. Feelin’ alright?" he asked in mock concern, smiling wickedly at her.

Her lungs began to tighten and burn as Rose realized how close in proximity she was to Jimmy. Forcing the air in her lungs to circulate, Rose kept her gaze downward so as not to meet his eerie and hateful stare. She already saw his face when she closed her eyes; she didn't need to focus on him while awake.

"Don't talk to her," John snarled through clenched teeth, taking a several hasty steps forward. Quickly stepping into his path, Rose put her hands on his chest, keeping him at bay. 

Jimmy paid no mind to John or his words, and continued to fixate on Rose. Taking a breath and garnering her courage, Rose flitted her eyes up to meet his. 

"Just go! We haven't seen each other in over eight years—why start now? Just leave me bloody well alone!"

Something in Jimmy altered after hearing Rose speak. His eyes had an otherworldly quality to them. There was something indistinguishable hidden in them, but their intent was evident. "Oh, I won't be stayin' 'round here long. But don't worry—I won’t leave without givin’ ya another present. I know how much ya enjoyed the last one," he stated with feigned friendliness, an almost sadistic grin on his face. 

Rose paled even more at his words and tightened her grip on John's shirt, her nails slightly digging into his skin.

"John, take Rosie inside," Jack instructed, suddenly taking hold of the situation. John threw another heated glance at Rose’s oppressor before taking her hand and leading her into the shop, all the while Jack maintained his post as guard. Once the couple was inside, Jimmy turned his attention to the blue eyed American.

"So the pretty boy Yank wants to talk, aye?" Jimmy scoffed.

Jack looked at him and just smiled. 

***

Calleigh was becoming increasingly concerned about Rose. She had always viewed her as good friend and Rose's behavior the past two days was unlike anything Calleigh had ever seen.   
  
Ever since John and Rose had met, Calleigh could see a significant change in Rose. She always had this way about her—vivacious and seemingly happy. But after seeing the two of them together, Calleigh realized that Rose had never truly been complete until she met John. Her relationships with others seemed to change, to evolve into something more meaningful. So seeing Rose take a severe tumble backwards was more than just a little troubling. 

When she arrived for her shift, Calleigh could immediately tell that Rose was exhausted, and needed rest. So even though she saw the three men blank each other outside, she held off from disturbing the sleeping woman. However, when she saw John pin that bloke from yesterday (she was pretty certain they'd called him Jimmy) against the window, Calleigh knew she had to wake Rose immediately before things got more out of control.   
  
Hurriedly shaking her arm, Calleigh pulled Rose from her slumber. Though she was slightly disoriented from the sudden awakening, Rose was able to comprehend Calleigh’s words, and she jolted upright and ran full-speed out the door.   
  
Calleigh watched as Rose urged John away from Jimmy, then as Jack ushered them back into the shop while he remained outside. It startled her to see such terror in Rose's eyes as the couple passed by her on their way back to the sofa. Though she was newly on staff, Amy too was concerned about the young couple, and the two young women began to discuss the past two days’ events. They were mid conversation when Jack suddenly appeared and asked for some ice as he flexed the fingers on his right hand. Calleigh and Amy both looked at his hand and saw his knuckles were red. They both raised their eyebrows questioningly. 

Jack merely shrugged his shoulders. “Hit my hand against something.”

***

Once sufficient time had passed after the altercation with Jimmy, John and Rose departed for home. Even though so much had transpired, silence dominated the short drive. The silence was not one of anger—it was merely allowing them to process the events of the past two days and the questions that had arisen, predominately on John’s side. Both had an inkling as to what the other was mulling over, but neither broached the subject.   
  
When they arrived at the house, Rose immediately went upstairs to shower without so much as a passing word to her fiancée. John watched in silence as she hurried upstairs and sighed, shaking his head at the whole insanity of the situation. Once Rose was no longer in view, John entered the living room where the recuperating Martha was watching telly and intermittently dozing. He couldn’t help but smile at her sprawled out form, an arm and leg hanging off the side of the sofa. Trying to keep his mind preoccupied in some way, John attempted to change the channel several times, yet each time, Martha would wake up momentarily and groggily insist that she was “watching that.” All he could do was grin and bear her selection as he waited for Rose to return. 

Nearly an hour later, Rose wandered into the living room, her hair wet and straggly and dressed in shorts and an oversized jumper. The shower seemed to have refreshed her to a certain degree, but it was nowhere near enough to bring her back to her normal self. She smiled weakly at John and walked over to the loveseat where he was sitting, pulling her legs to her chest and curling up next to him as he wrapped his arm around her.   
  
They sat there for a few moments mindlessly watching the telly before John decided that it was time. He kissed the top of her head and finally broke the silence.   
  
“Rose?”

“Hmm?” 

“We need to talk, love,” he said, clearing his throat of the sudden emotion. 

She was silent for several moments before unexpectedly bolting upright. “I’m gonna make a cuppa. Want a cuppa?”

Scrubbing his face, John sighed irritably at her avoidance. “Rose…”

Purposely choosing not acknowledge him, Rose quickened her steps to the kitchen. Once there, she began nervously fiddling with the kettle, trying to go through the motions of preparation, but failing miserably. She could tell when John came into the kitchen, could feel his eyes on her, yet she couldn’t face him. Instead, she just continued to move various objects around the counter, pretending to be busy, anything to avoid what she knew was inevitable. 

“Rose,” John beckoned softly. He walked over and put his hand on her shoulder, stilling her movements and turning her to face him. “Rose…sweetheart, we _need_ to talk about this.”

Rose finally met his waiting gaze—her eyes childlike and tears trailing down her cheeks. “Why?” she questioned with a broken whisper.

“Because it’s not gonna just go away. We have to deal with it, love.”

Unhappy with his response, Rose sniffed, again turning her gaze downward, but nodded her head faintly in understanding. “What do ya wanna talk 'bout?”

”He mentioned something about a present,” John furrowed his brow, “what did he mean?”

Several beats passed, but Rose kept her head down and remained silent.

“Rose?” John prodded.

Her frame began to visibly tremble, and she shook her head profusely. “Please, John…,” Rose pleaded with a hoarse whisper, “Please don’t make me do this… Not this…” 

John put his finger under her chin and lifted her head up. “Tell me, love,” he instructed gently, cupping her cheek and tenderly grazing his thumb against her skin. 

Tears steadily streamed down her pale face as Rose closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. Breaking away from his tender touch, she took several steps backwards. “H-he…he gave me…this,” she said quietly. With trembling hands, she lifted up the left side of her jumper up to reveal a jagged 3” scar near the base of her ribs. 

All the air vanished from his lungs, and John remained firmly rooted in place, his eyes fixated on the unnatural mark on her skin. When his feet finally allowed him to move forward, he kept his eyes focused on that scar. He stopped directly in front of her, slowly raised his hand, and gingerly ran his fingers over the rough strip of skin, closing his eyes and taking a harsh, steadying breath.   
  
Unable to display her “gift” any longer, Rose released her hold on her jumper, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles to dispel her nervous energy. John's gaze slowly drifted up to her face, but Rose turned her own to the side when their eyes met.

“Why…why didn’t you _tell_ me about this, Rose? How could you keep this from me?!” John charged, emotion threatening to ravage him.

She whipped her gaze back to him, fire in her eyes. “Does it look like somethin’ I’d _want_ to remember? That I’d _want_ to talk about it? Just how was I s’posed to tell ya, huh? When woulda be a good time to mention it?”

Stifling a growl, John tugged on his hair in frustration. “We agreed, Rose…we agreed no more secrets between us! We agreed to be open with each other, and y-…you hide something like _this_ from me? For God's sake, Rose, he could've bloody kil-…,” he trailed off, turning his eyes away from her and furiously scrubbing his face. He couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence even though Rose knew how it would've ended.

Her knees threatening to give way, Rose wobbled over to one of the kitchen chairs and sat down, putting her elbows on the table and bracing her head in her hands. “I wa-…I wasn't tryin' to keep it from you. Not really. It… It wasn’t somethin’ I wanted to remember. It was right after I met Harriet. I went to…to break things off for good. Jimmy was…at this pub with some of his mates. I told ‘im it was over. He followed me out…we started arguing. I started to leave and then he…,” she broke off, unable to put the memory into words. “The medics took me to A&E. Somehow he managed to not hit anythin’. They kept me a few days, and then I stayed away from school for a bit, but I had to go back…couldn’t hide forever.

John was nearly trembling with contained rage as she related the account. “Why didn’t you call the police? He should’ve been in jail!”

“Ya think I didn’t call ‘em?” Rose challenged, anger at the memory surfacing. “They talked to Jimmy. He said I ran outta the pub and he never saw me after that. His mates all said the same thing. There was nothin’ they could do. No one saw anythin’. All I could do was keep as far away from ‘im as possible. But then when I saw ‘im goin’ after Martha... I couldn’t let ‘im hurt anyone else. They finally took ‘im in for what he tried with her, an’ then I testified about what he did to me. He went to jail and that was the last I saw of ‘im…‘til two days ago…”

Silence permeated the room as John played with one of the empty mugs on the counter, picking it up and placing it down several times Then in an instant, he swept his arm across the counter in a fury, the porcelain shattering harshly against the floor. He scrubbed his face with his hands, trying to banish the images assaulting his mind. Never had John felt such a fierce scalding fury burn within him. It had been tough enough to swallow the fact that Rose had been so mistreated, but to learn this… _this_ was never what he imagined. Jimmy could have killed her. He knew from the location of the scar that one misstep in direction could have ended everything. 

John’s fierce reaction should have been startling, but she was unfazed. Instead, Rose turned and looked at her love, her eyes unfathomably sorrowful as she took in his overcome person. She quietly stood up and walked over to him. She gave him a tender, chaste kiss and wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his chest.  
  
”I know he said somethin’ to you…what was it?”  
  
He tightened the embrace and kissed her hair several times, yet left her question unanswered. Rose knew whatever Jimmy said must have been disparaging to say the least. However, she needed to know.   
  
”C’mon, babe…tell me.” 

”I can’t do it, Rose. There’s absolutely nothing on this Earth that would make me repeat that bloody wanker,” John refused vehemently.   
  
Squeezing his waist in displeasure, Rose tilted her head back to look at him squarely.   
  
”No, tell me what he said, John. It goes both ways.” When John continued to remain silent, Rose squeezed his waist again, this time to reassure him. “Y’can tell me, babe. After all he’s done, a few more words won’t hurt me.”  
  
”But…,” he began his refusal, yet stopped when he saw the determined look in his fiancée’s eyes. Briefly closing his eyes and sighing, John relented, albeit slightly. “Alright, fine. He said you fancy me ‘cause of the money and that you-…”  
  
”G’on,” Rose prodded, “S’alright.”  
  
John couldn’t bring himself to quote Jimmy directly, so he kept his answer as generic as possible. “He basically called you loose. And don’t ask me to be specific, Rose, because I won’t. That’s all you need to know.”  
  
Knitting her brows together, Rose mulled over Jimmy’s words. It was, by far, not the worst thing he’d called her. And even though she knew with absolute certainty that John put no stock in such statements, Rose still felt the need to reassure him of the fact.   
  
“I know y’don’t believe ‘im, but I _need_ ya to hear it from me—I was never like that. Not with him, not with anyone. ‘S one of the reasons he hit me, ‘cause I _wouldn’t_. I love you, _just you_. An’ it means nothin’ to me if you have millions or not even a penny to your name. You’re the love of my life, an’ I’m nobody’s but yours. Understand me?”  
  
Awestruck and completely enraptured with the beauty in his arms, John nodded before pulling her tight against his chest, repeatedly kissing her hair.  
  
Though John was basking in the warmth of Rose’s love, Jimmy's words from earlier still echoed in his mind. He could feel that something was coming. The young couple had fought through so much to be together, had overcome so many obstacles. Couldn’t the Universe just give them a bloody break for once? His Rose was everything to him, and now…now he had no idea how to keep her safe. However, one thing was absolutely certain—he _would_ keep her safe, no matter the cost.


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bit rougher than the last one. It's more...I guess you can say psychological. Let me know what you think.
> 
> Save Me–Remy Zero

_Rose opened her eyes to darkness. Slightly disoriented as to her surroundings, she rubbed her hands along the space beside her and felt the familiar contours and textures of her bed. She couldn’t recall how she ended up in her room. The events of the day were foggy at best. She remembered being with John, of telling him the whole truth about what had happened to her, but after that everything became…hazy. She blinked a few times, allowing her eyes to adapt ever so slightly to make out a few angles and shapes in the room. She stretched, providing her aching body with only a modicum of relief from the mounting tension of the past few days. Leaning over to her bedside table, she twisted the switch on the lamp, causing a fleeting spark of light to shine before again going black.  
  
Sighing, Rose swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up and crossed over to the light switch on the wall and flipped it on. Again, there was a bright spark of light before the room returned to darkness. A faint alarming sensation over the unexplained oddity began to tickle the back of her mind, but she pushed it aside. It was irrational to feel such a way. This was her home; this was where she would always be safe._

_The creak of her opening door penetrated the cold silence throughout the house. A whisper of cold air grazed against the back of her neck as she stepped out into the darkened hallway. Rose gingerly descended the stairs, tightly clasping the railing as she did so, afraid she would stumble in the darkness. When she reached the downstairs floor, she blindly felt around in the dark for the light switch. Her fingers made contact with its harsh metal, and she flipped the switch upward. Nothing happened. No light, not even a spark.  
  
The alarming sensation that Rose had brushed aside earlier came rushing back to the forefront of her mind. She continued to grope around in the dark searching for something—anything—to bring some form of illumination to the darkness that was fast transitioning from unsettling to terrifying. _

_The temperature in the room take a sudden drop. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around herself and began vigorously rubbing them, trying to bring some semblance of warmth to the cold that had pierced her bones. She took a few ragged breaths in attempt to squelch the fear that was rapidly overtaking her faculties. The air was so frigid that she could see her breath as she exhaled. There was something unnatural about her surroundings. Though she couldn’t see, Rose was _certain_ she was in her house—she could sense it. Yet, there was something else, some other sensation that was webbing its way around her and was inciting her to terror.  
  
She began to take a few unsteady steps backward, trying to distance herself from the unseen threat at hand. It all suddenly became too much to bear, and Rose whirled around and attempted to run; however, something was blocking her path. She couldn’t see it, couldn’t touch it, but there was no denying there was a presence there. Suddenly, Rose felt hot breath against her ear._

_“Ya miss me?” Jimmy's devilish voice hissed, and Rose instantly felt a familiar piercing flash of burning, excruciating pain radiate throughout her abdomen._

The blinding pain instantly jerked Rose from her tumultuous sleep, and she shot up out of bed, screaming and drenched in sweat. Her bedroom door suddenly slammed against the wall, immediately followed by a pair of strong arms encircling her. Disoriented and fueled by gut-wrenching terror, Rose began flailing her arms wildly and screaming at the person strongly grasping her, trying to beat off the assumed threat. 

“Rose! Rose, it’s okay! It’s me, Mickey…you’re okay! It’s okay! Calm down, babe…calm down!” 

Though Rose continued to scream, claw, and beat against him, Mickey’s arms remained tightly fixed around her, refusing to let his sister go in such a state. In an instant, Martha appeared beside him and began her own efforts to calm Rose.

“Love, it’s okay…I promise you’re safe. No one’s here but us. You’re safe…you’re safe,” she repeatedly reassured as she stroked Rose’s hair.

As the disorienting fog started to clear, Rose began to reclaim some clarity and she realized that this wasn’t a continuation of her nightmare. Mickey really was holding her close; Martha really was at her side comforting her. She was home, she was safe.   
  
A sudden wave of overpowering nausea struck her, and Rose broke free of Mickey. Stumblingly rushing to the toilet, Rose fell to her knees and began violently retching, emptying her stomach of what little food she'd managed to tolerate over the past two days. Though it was rather difficult in her current condition, Martha knelt beside Rose and rubbed her back comfortingly.   
  
When the bout of sickness finally passed, Rose fell back from the toilet bowl, feeling the muscles in her stomach aching from her repeated retching. Weakly crawling backwards, Rose leant her back against the wall, her knees bent and her body limp. Mickey handed Martha a wet cloth, and she began wiping the sweat off her brow. 

“Rose?” said a small frightened voice. The three of them turned to see a scared Tony standing in the doorway, tears streaking his face.

Seeing the sheer fear written on his young face, Rose felt her heart break in two. The pain seized her heart, and Rose sank onto her side, now flush with the tiled floor, and began agonizingly sobbing. Desperate to remove the boy from the disturbing scene, Mickey walked over to Tony and picked him up, taking him downstairs. Though Rose's sobs were near deafening, they still weren’t able to drown out the frightened boy’s cries for his sister. 

***

John was pulled from his fitful sleep by the incessant ringing of his mobile. He rolled over and looked at the clock—2:51 A.M. Rolling onto his back, he threw an arm over his face, the ringing of the mobile persisting. Sighing, he was just about to answer, when the ringing ceased.  
  
John turned on his side, pulling the blanket over his bare shoulders. Only a few beats passed before the mobile began to ring again. Groaning in frustration, he grabbed for the phone and saw it was Mickey. Panic slapped him in the face and John quickly answered.

“What’s wrong, Mickey?”

There was a long pause before he responded. _“You need to come round...”_

***

Racing as fast as he could, it was a little over fifteen minutes before John quietly walked into the dimly lit house. A small lamp was on in the living room, illuminating the space just enough so that John could see Mickey sitting on the sofa. He walked into the room and was immediately taken aback by the expression on Mickey’s face. Normally, the young man was all too ready to give a smile or playful smirk, but that was not the case that night. John had never seen a stoic Mickey and it was more than a little disconcerting. Out of his periphery, John saw the small Tony asleep and buried into Mickey’s side. 

“What happened?” John asked tentatively, taking a seat next to his soon to be brother-in-law. 

Mickey remained silent for several moments, boring holes into the wall in front of him. John went to speak again, but Mickey finally replied.

“I’ve never seen her like this, John. Never.”

“Mickey, wh-..."

“Y’know…I tried to go with her that night, when she went to break it off with ‘im. Told her I wanted to go with her…to protect her. I couldn't shake this sick feelin'. But Rose... she was so _bloody stubborn_. Said she had to stand up to ‘im on her own. It was a public place…thought that maybe it’d be okay. I was an idiot…”

“You weren’t an idiot, Mickey. You were a kid and she…she should’ve been safe in front of all those people.”

Mickey finally turned and looked at his friend, his expression completely haggard. “She’s terrified…I’ve n-…," he stopped, sighing, "She woke up screamin’ bloody murder and I tried to calm 'er down, but that……she didn’t recognize me, didn't know where she was…she fought me,” he said as he held up his arm, showing the multiple scratches he had earned during the struggle. “How are ya s’posed to protect someone from somethin’ ya can’t see? Rose can’t sleep without seeing his face…she barely eats anythin'! That bloody wanker is gonna kill her without even touchin’ her.”

“No, he’s not," John assured, putting a comforting hand on Mickey's shoulder, "She’s strong, you know that.”

Nodding with a sigh, Mickey rubbed his forehead. “I know she’s strong. I’ve seen her fight through so much…I know she’s got it in her, but I think she’s," he sighed again, turning his worried gaze on his friend, "John, I’m afraid she’s givin’ up. That it's all finally too much.”

John tried to process everything Mickey was saying, but lack of sleep coupled with growing worry made it difficult for him to focus. “Rose upstairs?” 

Mickey nodded. “Yeah…once she calmed down, she ran to the loo and got sick. I literally had to pick her up off the floor. She’s in her room with Martha. She was startin’ to drift off again when I called you.”

Nodding in understanding, John stretched and yawned a bit. “Well, I’ll sleep on the sofa, that way if she wakes up, I’m here. Might be able to help calm her down.”

“Ya sure?”

“You know better than to ask that," John said, looking at him squarely. “You’re my family. Have been for a long while and I’m not going anywhere. So…how ‘bout giving me a pillow so I can try an' get some sleep?”

***

The sun streamed through the windows and woke John from his rather restless sleep. Squinting at the bright light, he turned his face away from the beams. As he did so, his eyes caught sight of Tony sitting on the floor in front of him, hugging his knees to his chest. 

John smiled softly at him. “Good morning,” he said sleepily. 

“Hey,” Tony returned weakly.

Frowning at the little boy's troubled manner, John sat up and patted the spot next to him. Tony readily got up and buried himself into John’s side.

“What’s wrong, little man?” he asked softly, pulling the boy closer to him.

His eyes misted and Tony began to sniffle. “Rose was screamin' last night, and when I went to see her, Uncle Mickey took me away from her. He said she was sick. But…she won’t quit cryin'. Don’t people cry when they’re sad? Is Rose sad?”

The fear and concern etching the boy's face pained John, and he released a rough breath. How was he to explain the situation to a seven year old? 

“Rose is...well, she’s crying because something sorta scary happened. Have you ever had something scary happen?” he asked, looking down at the little boy beside him. 

Tony looked up, pondering for a moment before he nodded. “Sometimes I have bad dreams.”

“And what happens when you have bad dreams?”

“Rose’ll come read to me. Sometimes she makes me hot chocolate. Or sometimes I go sleep with Aunt Martha and Uncle Mickey.”

“And sometimes it takes a bit before you feel better, yeah?”

Tony nodded in agreement.

“Rose is just scared for right now, but she’ll get better. I promise. Just might take a bit.”

Once the young boy seemed to be at ease, the two began chatting about various topics, John trying to focus Tony’s attention on happier subjects. Eventually, Martha made her way into the living room, and took Tony into the kitchen to have breakfast. Seeing an opportunity, John went upstairs and quietly entered Rose’s room. He found her resting on her side, her eyes closed tightly. Every few moments, she began to jerk and a grimace marred her features. Seeing her so disturbed, John walked over and knelt down beside her, gently stroking the apple of her cheek with his thumb. At the feel of his touch, her face softened and her eyes blinked open. 

“Hey,” she said weakly, her voice hoarse from her earlier screams, offering him a small smile.

John mirrored her smile, still stroking her cheek. “Hey, love. Mickey called, said you had a rough night. Wanna talk about it?”

She gave a faint shake of her head. “No…I know you probably want to but I just want to forget it. It was just a dream. Can we leave it just this once?” she softly pleaded. 

Seeing no real reason to rehash the details of the dream, John nodded in agreement. It would only cause her more pain.

“When did you get here?”

“About three this morning.”

Rose frowned at that knowledge. “I’m sorry. Ya didn’t have to come that early, babe.”

“What is it with you all saying nonsense like that?” he asked in frustration. “You are the most important thing in my life and always will be. So quit with all this ‘you don’t have to’ ridiculousness. When it comes to you, it isn’t a choice. It’s a necessity.”

Her smile finally reaching her eyes, Rose braced herself up on her elbow and kissed him tenderly. When she pulled back, John could see the utter exhaustion in her countenance. Sighing, she rested her head back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“I’m so tired, John.”

“I’ll bet. You’ve barely slept for two days.”

She shook her head. “No…I don’t mean that. I mean I’m _tired_. I’m tired of all of this. I’m tired of fighting, of trying so hard and getting’ knocked down. I’m just… _tired_ ,” she said softly, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks. 

John joined her on the bed, pulling her close to him. “I know, love. I know,” he said as he wiped away her tears.

Rose turned her gaze upward to meet his. “I need you to tell me it will be okay. Even if it won’t… I just need to hear you say it…please. If _you_ say it, I think I might just believe it.”

Looking at her intently, John moved forward and tenderly captured her lips. When he pulled back, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. 

“It _will_ be okay. I will _never_ let anything happen to you. I promise.”

***

Several days had passed since that horrible night. Much to her displeasure, Rose continued to have nightmares; fortunately, none matched the original's intensity. She tried to keep her focus on the shop, on her family. To some degree, her efforts were successful, however, the fear never left her. And she was not the only one on alert, none of her family would let her alone. The fact that Jimmy had not returned to the shop since the confrontation, or made any attempts to contact her, only increased everyone’s instinct and desire to protect her. Though Rose appreciated it, she couldn't help at times feeling feeble, something that only added to her sorrow. 

On the following Saturday, Rose and Amy were manning the shop. Unfortunately, by mid-afternoon, Amy became sick to her stomach and began throwing up. Even though she was nearly green and broken out in a sweat, Amy was still reluctant to leave her friend alone, knowing as she did that Rose's wellbeing was of utmost importance. However, Rose insisted that she leave early, saying that Amy was being ridiculously overcautious. Besides, she would only be alone for a few hours.   
  
She steadfastly refused, but after throwing up for the fourth time, Amy acquiesced and went home. Once the ill woman left, Rose toyed with the idea of calling or texting John about the change. However, she decided against such action. It was her way of claiming back some small part of her life. What could happen in a few hours?

***

The man watched the tall ginger leave and couldn’t help the smirk that etched its way onto his face. He had never been one for patience, but he remained calm in spite of himself. He knew it wouldn't be much longer.


	5. Part Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok...this is it. I'm sorry this isn't the best conclusion I've written. I hope you like it anyways.
> 
> Stand--Rascal Flatts

The day had started out rather promising with clear skies and a mild breeze. But as the hours passed, dark clouds began to emerge; and by the time Amy left the shop, the skies were near black and ominous. The previous gentle and mild breeze began to increase its intensity and turned almost bitter. The sudden, foul change in weather had slowed the inflow of customers to virtually nonexistent, but in all honesty, Rose didn’t mind all that much.   
  
For almost a week, she had slept a mere 12 hours collectively, and those hours were far from restful. Then there was the matter of her appetite, or more like her lack of one. Rose had taken in very little--hardly enough to qualify it as sustenance-- and what she did manage to eat, she could barely stomach. She was utterly spent--both physically and emotionally. That, coupled with the fact that her nerves were vastly frayed, had Rose incredibly grateful for the sparsity of customers.   
  
Something kept prodding at Rose to let John know that Amy was no longer "standing guard," that she was now alone; but she stubbornly forced the admonition to the recesses of her mind. She was so bloody tired of feeling weak, of feeling afraid. She kept telling herself that it was only three hours till John came to collect her. And honestly, what could possibly happen in three hours time?

However, Rose was soon to realize that sometimes all it takes is the blink of an eye for everything to change...forever.

***

Something was most definitely coming; John could sense it. Though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, it didn’t change the fact it was an incredibly unsettling sensation. He was currently in a meeting with several of the firm’s editors and a few members of PR, but he was barely participating in the discussion. His mind kept circling back to the foreboding intuition that was plaguing him.   
  
John couldn’t determine if it was just him being paranoid, or if he was being astute to the circumstances. He wasn't blind to the fact that Rose was becoming increasingly frustrated with always being on alert, with the constant surveillance. It wasn't that she resented their concern, or that she didn't need their support. No, it was that the situation was starting to make her feel weak and helpless, like she wasn’t in control of her life. And no matter how much they tried to convince Rose it was for her own protection, she was beginning to resist them in little ways. 

The meeting continued late into the evening, and before he knew it, the time was already ten of seven. John attempted to end the discussion prematurely and head over to _The Cuppa_ , but there was no possible way for that to happen. It was the final meeting before his book went to press and there was no leaving—his hands were tied. Despite the unforeseen change of events, John wasn’t going to leave Rose on her own. He knew Amy was working with Rose till close, so that eased his anxiety to a lesser degree, however, it wasn’t enough. John knew that he wouldn’t truly be at ease until he was certain Rose would be taken care of that night. If he couldn’t be there, then he had to ensure that someone else would take his place. Unwilling to wait any longer, he excused himself to make a brief phone call, feeling the room’s collective annoyance as he exited the room and not caring one iota about it.

Mentally running through his options, John decided to call Jack and arrange for him to take Rose home. Martha’s frequent doctor’s appointments had caused Mickey to fall behind at the garage. Though he knew that Mickey would drop what he was doing to take care of Rose, John also knew that he didn’t need any added anxiety from work. Seeing as Jack had taken the day off and was always keen to help his soon to be sister-in-law, he was the best option. The decision made, John pulled out his mobile to call him, only to find that his battery had died.

_Of course it’s dead…because having a working phone would mean something’s going right. And we can’t bloody well have that now, can we?_

Scrubbing his face, John mutteringly cursed under his breath and went over to a deserted receptionist’s desk, dialing the number. 

_What else could go wrong?_

***

The alleyway behind _The Cuppa_ was deserted save for one individual huddled near the shop's back entrance. He carefully manipulated the lock on the backdoor. A few more moments and he would have it rigged just like he wanted. The bitter wind of the approaching storm nipped at his exposed fingers as he worked, yet they remained nimble. Though the blackening skies were hindering his vision, he was still able to swiftly disable the locking mechanism. It was child’s play—by far, one of the easiest attempts he’d ever made. He wasn’t going to act at this moment; it was too early. No, he was just preparing, aligning all the pieces. When the time came, there wasn’t going to be anything to stop him. 

***

The wind continued to intensify and thunder began to clap, but the blackened skies held back their imminent downpour. Every so often, a sharp gust of wind would blow and the shop lights would momentarily flicker. It was ten minutes till close and still no word from John. That earlier prodding that Rose had managed to ignore was starting to reemerge with vigor. 

_I’m just being paranoid. Everything’s fine…I’m fine…John’ll be here soon._

The weather was so foreboding that the shop had been vacant of customers for over an hour. There was a howling outside and the lights flickered again, this time the dark holding out longer than previously. All of a sudden, lightening crashed and the clouds opened up, releasing a torrential downpour and the wind blew fiercely.   
  
Rose decided to go ahead and lock up the shop; clearly no one was going to come in in the next ten minutes with the weather being so horrendous. She went to the front entrance and locked the door. Lightning began to streak across the sky and the rain beat heavily against the door and window panes. 

_I hope John makes it okay in this…_

With her brow furrowed in worry, Rose pulled out her mobile from her back pocket and dialed his number. She just wanted the peace of mind knowing he was safe. There wasn’t even a ring before the call went straight to voicemail. 

“Hey, babe…it’s me. It's awful out there an' I just wanna make sure you’re safe. See ya when ya get here. Love you.”

Putting her phone back in her pocket, Rose walked into the kitchen to begin her cleanup. Another clap of thunder echoed across the skies, startling her slightly and causing her to jump. Closing her eyes, she took a breath and forced herself to calm down. As she crossed the kitchen threshold, her steps slowed as she sensed something was off about the room. The air held a slightly outdoor smell—not the usual air-conditioned quality. For some unknown reason, most likely intuition, her eyes darted over to the back door that led to the alley, and immediately noticed the water clearly pooled in front of it. 

The air in her lungs solidified and her senses heightened to the extreme as the wheels began to turn in her mind. In that moment, Rose knew Jimmy was in the shop—she couldn’t see him, but she knew he was there.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Rose said to the emptiness, her voice surprisingly steady. She steeled herself as she waited for him to inevitably answer.

Jimmy stepped out from the shadows, hands in pockets, soaking wet and grinning sadistically. His eyes locked with hers, his flashing with icy hate.

“Ahh…you ruined the surprise,” he said in mock disappointment. “An' after I went through so much trouble, too.”

_John’ll be here…he’s coming…I just gotta hang on a bit longer._

“Sorry to disappoint,” Rose replied with muted sarcasm. Though in her nightmares fear had consumed her, she was surprisingly, if not a little unnaturally, calm. 

“Nothin’ new,” he replied with a shrug, keeping his eyes fixated on her as he did so. “Ya always were a disappointment.”

The words stung Rose as he uttered then, though not as harshly as they would have previously. They were familiar words to her, ones Jimmy hade made sure to say to her on a regular basis in the short time they were together. Hearing them again reminded her of all those times, but things were different now. She wasn’t some battered sixteen year-old anymore, no longer willing to believe that such snarled insults were fact. Rose knew what it felt like to love someone with your entire being and to have that love reciprocated. 

“You’re wrong,” she whispered fiercely.

The words had barely left her lips before Jimmy's expression froze, not one muscle moving even the slightest. “What did ya say?”

Fear mixed with courage as she answered. “Nothin’ was ever gonna make you happy. It wasn’t me who was the disappointment…”

Jimmy’s face continued to harden at her perceived insolence. The soul left his eyes, leaving a cold and inhuman husk in its place. Even his words were void of emotion as he spoke.

“Look at you all big an' brave! Don’t ya remember what 'appened last time ya tried that with me?”

Rose took a hard swallow at the sudden lump in her throat. She was trapped in the shop with this deranged being and couldn’t think of a way to escape. She fought to remain clearheaded; if she was going to make it out of this alive, she had to keep her wits about her. All she needed to do was keep Jimmy at bay long enough for John to make it to her. Her faith in John was implicit, and there was no trace of doubt when he said that he would always be there for her, that he would protect her. It was that faith that kept Rose from succumbing to fear and apparent hopelessness of the situation.  

"I remember all of it—every single detail...An' it's not gonna happen again," she said, keeping her voice steady. 

It was honestly not her intention to provoke him. She just knew she had to keep him talking, keep him preoccupied. The thunder rumbled and lightning cracked, causing the lights to flicker again. 

"John'll be here soon...ya can still leave an--"

"Y'think I'm scared of your pretty boy? What makes y'think he cares 'bout you? That _anyone_ cares one bleedin' bit 'bout you? Your idiot parents saw ya everyday an' didn't say nothin', an' your Johnny Boy's no different!" he snarled through gnashing teeth. 

Rose felt a blazing heat course through her body when Jimmy spoke disparagingly not only of John, but also of her parents. 

"Don't ya _dare_ talk ‘bout my parents! I hid it from them the entire time. Dad was sick and Mum was pregnant, they didn't need more weighing on 'em. It nearly killed 'em when they found out! As for John, keep your bloody mouth shut! Y'don’t know anythin' 'bout him. He’s nothin’ like you! He’d never hurt me...and he's always there for me!" 

All expression left his face as Jimmy leaned forward just slightly, eyes coal black and lifeless. "But he's not here _now,_ is he?" 

In that instant, Rose could sense it was the end—the time for words had ceased and action was imminent. It was all a matter of who would move first.

Another crash of thunder and lightning roared overhead, and the power finally failed. Seizing that moment, Rose rammed the metal prep table into Jimmy with all her might. She heard him topple to the ground, swearing, and she bolted through the door, sprinting towards the front of the shop. Reaching the door, she twisted and pulled at the knob for a split second before remembering she had locked it. Hearing approaching angry movement, Rose ducked behind one of the leather chairs, putting a hand over her mouth to silence her haggard breaths. 

“Rose? ...Rose?” Jimmy began to taunt sadistically. 

Each lightning strike continued to illuminate the darkened shop, casting an eerie bluish light throughout the interior. Rose turned her head just enough to see Jimmy’s location. She saw him in the far back of the shop, his back facing her. As her gaze turned from him, she noticed the wrought iron chairs encircling the tables directly. Her eyes then flitted over to the large glass pane door.   
  
Rose knew she had to act—it was her last chance. Though quite strong, she knew she’d never be able to fend Jimmy off for long. In an instant, she was on her feet. Her hands immediately grabbed the chair and she swung at the door, causing the pane to splinter and crack. She heard Jimmy’s footsteps rushing towards her. Summoning every bit of strength she had, Rose swung again and the glass gave way just as Jimmy rammed into her back, catapulting them onto the sidewalk and into the raging storm. 

Rose landed face down on the concrete, shards of glass cutting into her face and palms. Her vision was slightly blurred and her body ached from the impact. The icy rain pelted relentlessly against her skin. Her senses began to come into focus and she staggered to her feet and took off running. She was going on instinct, not knowing exactly her destination, but knowing she had to distance herself from the ongoing threat. Her lungs burned as they clamored for oxygen. Risking slowing down, Rose turned her head back, trying to see through the blinding downpour if she was being followed. As she did so, she didn’t notice the person rushing towards her till her body made contact with his. Fear seized her, and Rose began lashing out at the individual, fighting for freedom. It was only when she heard her name spoken in a familiar voice that Rose stopped her assault and finally looked up.

“Jack?” she cried brokenly.

Jack looked down at her, clearly shaken at her appearance, and pulled her into a protective embrace. She tightened her arms around him and sobbed into his chest.

“It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “I've got you, Rosie.”

***

The rain continued to fall, though less intensely than earlier. Rose sat in the back of the ambulance, soaked through to the bone. A blanket uselessly covered her shoulders as a medic tended to the gashes in her palms and face. Flashes of red and blue illuminated the surroundings, making the police’s presence known. She watched them lift Jimmy’s stretcher into the other waiting ambulance, and let out a ragged sigh of relief as the doors closed and they drove away. There was a sudden pain, and her focus jerked back to the medic, wincing as the antiseptic began to burn at her wounds. 

“Where’s Rose?” came a distant voice.

Her eyes darted upward and began searching through the still blinding rain for the glorious face that belonged to that voice. She swatted away the medic and stepped out of the ambulance and into the rain, the blanket falling off her and onto the ground. Rose darted her head around, trying to see past the current frenzy. Finally, her line of sight cleared and John came into view, their eyes immediately locking. 

_He's here…_

It was unclear which one of them moved first, but in an instant they were in each other’s arms. They tightened their embrace, clutching each other desperately, unable to get close enough for comfort. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” John repeated over and over again, his words wracked with guilt. 

Pulling back just enough to see his eyes, Rose shook her head.   
  
“Don’t…just don’t. You’re here…you…”    
  
Unable to bear it any longer, she cupped the back of his head and drew his face towards hers, kissing him fervently. Immediately, John reached a hand up and cradled her head, his fingers entangled in her wet locks, reciprocating her kiss with a blazing intensity. But then, he suddenly broke away and shook his head, reluctant to let his guilt go. 

John moved his hand from her hair and cupped her cheek, ghosting his thumb over her cuts. “He…you could’ve…I should’ve been here. I shou-..."

“You were,” she replied, halting his guilty train of thought. The rain continued to pour down, but Rose refused to break her gaze. She looked at him, conveying all the love she had in her soul for the man standing before her. She took his hand, kissing his knuckles, then his palm, before settling it over her heart.

“You _were_ here,” she insisted. “You…you kept me fighting. I will always fight to get back to you…”

John stared at her in awe a few moments before pulling her back into a deep and ardent kiss. The rain continued without letup, chilling them both to the bone, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was that they were together, that they would always be together. They refused to be defeated. The Universe could throw whatever it wanted at them. Whatever the obstacle, they would overcome it. No matter how bruised or bloodied they became, they would keep fighting for each other.   
  
Always.


End file.
